The War That Never Ended
by cronaisawriter
Summary: Harry Potter has tried to build himself a life, a wife, kids, a good job. But it's all slipping away. Clawing to hold on to it is leaving him with only bloody nails. Crossposted on A03


_CW: Allusions to addiction, referenced past child abuse, graphic descriptions of nightmares, minor violence against children_

Harry was in his office. He was drinking a cup of cold coffee a more common occurrence than ever before (read a cup almost every hour). Harry hated that he had become the overworking father who was never home enough. The dad who missed things his kids did and ate reheated meals.

Part of why (read as what he wanted to blame it on) was that people expected him to do everything even if he wasn't the boss yet. He did know that a big part (read the real reason) was that this was easier than being at home. He felt normal, present when he was on the job, firing at bad guys and the running and the violence. God, he never knew what to do without the violence.

He had tried right out of the war he tried to leave it all behind. It was hard because he wasn't one of the people who took their N.E.W.T.S anyway, so he was alone all the time. Hermione had, Neville had and most others. Anyone who wanted jobs that would still want N.E.W.T.S even if they had used the magic for real, who gave a fuck about theory (read as Harry having even less ability to pay attention)? Harry knew (read as wished) it didn't matter, all the mattered was you could use the magic to keep people safe if it wasn't useful what was even the point?

Harry was hired as an Auror the moment trying to stay home drove him to ask for the job out of an intense feeling of uselessness. They didn't make him have N. .S or do the training. They understood if he could stop Voldemort he could catch (read as execute) mediocre dark wizards. Harry still never used an Unforgivable, he didn't want to split his own soul it was just made whole. However, Harry had taken Lupin's words to heart, the time for stunning was over. Especially since these Neo-Death Eaters were on the rise.

God Harry didn't know why people would even do that. It was immensely painful to see that goddamn Dark Mark anywhere for everyone who had been in or lost someone to the war. Granted none of these idiots ever actually knew the spell to cast it so it wasn't the real thing. So instead it was painted or carved where they did their shit. They were petty and stupid and violent. But Harry knew better than to let it fester so he used curses now, god when did become so jaded? Harry thought as he dug in his desk and downed a pepper up potion. He may or may not have a problem (read as absolutely did) with using too many potions, sometimes good old tea or coffee isn't powerful enough.

Harry knew that he was on the 'not over it' side of the survivors of the war. He didn't know how to convince his mind it was over. That he was mostly safe, that he could rest when he was at home. But Harry figured he had never had been safe, his whole life was spent on edge. As a fucking infant, he was on the run. As a kid, he was with the Dursleys. Harry had only recently really realised that they were really that bad (read totally abusive). Anytime he mentioned his childhood when raising the babies everyone else seemed horrified. Next was Hogwarts, even if it had been his home it had never been anything close to safe. Then came the war.

Glancing at the clock he figured he ought to go home before James Sirius fell asleep, he could do the rest of the work (read tasks he didn't actually have to do) the next day. James constantly reminded them he was six and could stay up till his dad got home but he almost always fell asleep waiting.

When Harry got home he was in time to put James Sirius and Albus to bed, Lily Luna was already fast asleep. He ate a reheated dinner that Ginny had left for him. Doing so earned him an angry look from Ginny.

Harry loved Ginny that was never even up for debate, at least for him. The first few years they were officially together (read as in name only) Ginny was playing for the Harpies. At that time they almost never saw each other in person, but when they did it was always fun and loving. But now that they, in theory, saw each other all the time it felt more distant.

Ginny was pissed she had become the parent more involved in the day-to-day. She wanted to travel to do her journalism, and 'share the parenting'. It didn't help that he often slept on the couch so he wouldn't wake her up from nightmares. In the first few years, they helped each other through nightmares and memories but now they delt alone. Mostly because Ginny did not take well to Harry waking up and either running (read falling) from the bed and more than one time he had drawn his wand on her. His brain seemed to forget when he was, not only at night but periodically other places. This meant Harry often had to go 'get his head on straight' (read leave the house right now).

Harry often felt like his mind was constantly remembering Moody rather he wanted it or not. 'Constant vigilance' yeah that was all fine and good but when it makes you throw one of your Aurors against the wall in anger (read terror) it was less than ideal. The respect they now showed him was both based on his skill and fear of him. Harry hated that more than anything. Harry never wanted anyone to be afraid of him, it was the last thing he ever wanted. God he couldn't get his brain to calm the fuck down.

Harry slept as he did normally (read none at all). It was Saturday so he had nowhere to go till late that night. Saturdays had become family dinner nights which included everyone ending up at the Weasley's house. It hadn't been official at first, everyone just felt the need to see each other ( read as to confirm they were still alive.) Eventually, it had become an obligation but it was nice overall. The family was ever growing via children and Marriage. When Luna or Neville had free time they would come to visit.

Harry found himself staring at the Daily Profit at the breakfast table. He didn't really read anything but drinking coffee and reading the paper was just what you did (when you were trying to pretend to be normal, domestic). Eating breakfast with his kids and wife, that was good. Albus and James Sirius were yelling at each other about something in a comic book they were reading. Rather or not X character could come back or not. Lily Luna was rather enthralled with something out the window, it wasn't clear what but 2-year-olds were easily amused.

After that Harry fell asleep on the couch. His mind was filled with pandemonium, being stuck in some kind of box, his recent onset of baseless claustrophobia (read finally releasing growing up in a cupboard was abnormal, and a fear of being trapped at all where you couldn't get away) attacking him even in sleep. Suddenly he felt someone touching him his brain supplied violent images of Voldemort he jumped up pointing his wand at whatever was touching him. He heard a shout and a crash. When his mind finally was able to see what was really there a terrified Albus had fallen over the coffee table.

Harry suddenly felt ill dropping his wand on the ground.  
"Damn it, Albus I'm so sorry."  
Ginny was suddenly in the room. Harry was leaning half of the couch head hanging. Albus was breathing hard sitting on the broken coffee table.  
"It's okay Albus, I promise okay?" Ginny said kneeling by her child. She waved her wand over his scratched palm. Kissing his nose rubbing his back.  
Harry sat all the way up holding his hands open so his son could see he meant no harm.  
"Why didn't you get some ice cream, Al? You can put as many jelly beans and chocolate as you can fit."Ginny suggested.  
Albus nodded and half ran from the room

Harry got a look from Ginny, it was one of pity, not even anger. Honestly, Harry thought he would rather have anger. When she was mad her eyes burned as bright as her hair. This look just made Harry feel so small and made Ginny look so old.  
"Harry. I think you need to go stay somewhere else for a while."  
"Right," Harry said nodding unsurprised.  
"I know it's not your fault. I know you don't want to be broken or dangerous. But Albus and the others have to be my first priority."  
"I know. That's what you should do, they always come first."  
"I'm sorry. I am. Just I need you to come home to us. I need you to be safe and not afraid. And the kids need a father."  
"I know, I do. I'm sorry"  
"The war is over, I don't know why you can't see that," Ginny said tears starting to fall.  
"I'm so sorry."

Ginny nodded now seeming strong and together even with tears on her cheeks. Strong no matter how much she cried, right then he remembered why they fell in love in the first place. They had been in love, trying to hold on to being kids. Stolen kisses by the lake, in between her tests and Harry falling into the past going crazy over books and secret plans.

Harry wished the war had ended for him too. So he could look at his kids and not only think of everything bad that would come for them, what wards his house should use, what skills should they learn. He wanted to play with them and be calm enough that playing at battles didn't make his skin crawl. He wished he could look at Ginny and it would always feel like love, that he could be with her at the moment.

After packing his bag, Harry had to do something that felt like the worst thing he had ever done.

Harry sat with his kids. Their faces were covered in ice cream.  
"Hey, I need to tell you something," Harry said hoping his face was neutral  
Their faces would probably be funny as hell covered in chocolate but the deep confusion that shown on them made it sad.  
"I'm going away for a bit okay? I have to do some things (read try and fix my fucked up brain) before I can come home to you guys."  
"why? are you going to go fight some bad guys?" Albus asked his big eyes blinking up at his father.  
"Not right now. I'm gonna be safe, but what I'm going to do will hopefully keep you safe." Harry explained as he bit back his tears.  
"Like when mum asks you to go take a breath?" James asked.  
"Yeah like that, but a bit longer," Harry answered god he wasn't going to cry in front of his kids.  
"Alright. But come home please?" James said his young eyes penetrating Harry's soul.  
"Yeah, course I will. I'm sorry guys."

They nodded Harry gave them hugs that hurt more than any curse ever could.

Harry left the house standing in the street the cold air stinging his face. He was then hit by the fact he didn't know where to go (read as he didn't have anywhere). So Harry found himself at the leaky cauldron.

Tom seemed to know something was wrong as he received a distinctly sympathetic look when he passed him a fire whisky. Probably anyone in a pub around ten in the morning was having a shit day. The drink felt wrong, but there wasn't anything better to do when your wife asks you to leave (read as kicks you out).

That night as Harry laid in a bed he let out a half laugh. God one day Harry would stop running stop fighting, or at least he hoped. One day the war would stop. But the hope he was trying to think of, didn't seem to reach his insides. And god the fear, and hurt, and loss was too much.

And Harry cried he broke down, it was so much worse than any other time. Everything he had tried to build for himself, he had lost for himself.


End file.
